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I'm going to give three pulls to the bathed cigarette
To feel more of that power and get rid of my fear
A raccoon comes to me all messed up with the big eyes I have marked
Lungs full of smoke, eyes very red, nose powdered
It's not that I like to see blood, but we're at war
Sometimes I'm activated, maybe panicked, looking for prey
When I dress in black, I hang my horn, infrared and chest plate
They know I'm really sick, that I'm high and very few come close
And it's not that I use drugs
Drugs use me
That smoke calms and relaxes my nerves when something stresses me out
And even if the sierra runs out, I'll keep burning that good herb
And until the sierra runs out, cousin!
And take it out so it stinks, you old sly one!
I'm slyer than the old man, more dangerous than the devil
The cops have shot me, in the Durango sierra
With a sip of whiskey, the fear went away and I kept fighting
Then I rolled a cigarette, lit it in the mountains, to keep partying
Eight days a week, 27 hours a day
400 days a year, at night and during the day
I have an accelerated body, a blocked brain, and a fully charged horn
Sleep is afraid of me, I get active in the heat of the day
And it's not that I use drugs
Drugs use me
That smoke calms and relaxes my nerves when something stresses me out
And even if the sierra runs out, I'll keep burning that good herb
And we continue the drunkenness, cousin!
From Culiacán, Sinaloa, old man!
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